WRITTEN FOR QLFC, Prompt Bingo

Prompt: Time Travel


Time travel worked in mysterious ways. As a 21-year-old witch trapped in the body of a newborn infant, Hermione had at first panicked about her situation. How was she supposed to change the future if she couldn't even hold up her own head? But that had immediately changed when Tom had reached his small hand out and rubbed her soft head through the bars of the crib.

At first, Hermione had wondered if she was dreaming. Why was Tom Riddle—although a baby—touching her so sweetly? Could this tiny, handsome baby really grow up to be the Dark Lord?

One of the orphanage workers had tried to stop Tom from touching her, but he'd accidentally yanked on Hermione's hair and made her scream in pain. Her cries had surprisingly had a profound effect on him. He had yelled, screamed, and hit the woman before clambering into the crib with her. He had patted her head, hugged her close and held her until her eyes had started to flutter shut.

Before falling asleep, Hermione had realised that she would have to go with the flow, rather than follow her plan to change the future.

Hermione was three years old now, and four-year-old Tom was still wrapped firmly around her finger. In fact, Tom's first word, not that anyone else had overheard him say it, was, "Mine." Hermione, in turn, had chosen to say, "Tom," to appease the future Dark Lord. (Not that he'd become the Dark Lord this time around, if she had anything to say about it.)

Hermione was trying to keep Tom away from all evil, psychopathic behaviours, including torturing insects, hitting the other children for mocking Hermione's buck teeth, and stealing their toys. But Tom was extremely protective and possessive of her. And he was the heir of Slytherin. That meant he would distract Hermione while he punished the children for their transgressions against her.

On one hand, Hermione knew she had to do better to stop him from becoming the Dark Lord again. But on the other hand, it was sweet that he wanted to protect her from them all. Sometimes, Hermione would have to remind herself that she wasn't actually three years old. She still had all her memories of her past. But most of the time, she would look at Tom and melt at the concern and righteous fury swimming in his ocean-blue eyes.

What would Unspeakable 13 have done? Hermione often wondered what Bellatrix's father-in-law would have thought of her consorting with the enemy. Having lost both his sons in the final battle at Hogwarts, Mr. Lestrange had chosen to help her save the world by going back in time. Before sending her here, he had advised her to go straight to the Unspeakables in 1940. But their calculations had gone wrong and she had arrived in 1927 instead as a baby.

And now, she was trying to lead Tom Riddle down a better path.

It was going to be difficult, but it would be worth it. After all, Hermione had nothing to lose. All her friends were dead.

Now, she had a new friend. Tom.

Tom, who was silently lying beside her under the shade of a large tree. His thin arms were wrapped around her, her back pressed against his scrawny chest, and he was silent as she read her book of poems out loud. She wasn't able to enunciate as well as she could have as an adult, but Tom liked to hear her voice. He rarely spoke, whereas Hermione talked enough for both of them. Even now, he was quiet as she read each stanza and rambled on about its meaning for a few moments before returning to the poem.

Just then, a twig cracked behind them, and Tom whipped away from Hermione, twisting and turning to see what had caused the disturbance. He picked up a rock the size of his fist and hid it behind his back.

Hermione crawled onto all fours before she stood up. She almost tripped on the hem of her flowy frock but managed to steady herself. Knowing what Tom wanted, she raised her voice and called out, "Who goes there?"

The leaves rustled and twigs snapped underfoot as three older boys came out from behind the bushes. They grinned wickedly at Tom and Hermione, and one of them said, "Well, lookie what we've got 'ere! It's the wittle kiddie who can't keep 'er mouth shut. What're you reading there?"

The second boy reached over and yanked Hermione's book out of her hands. "Ha! She's readin' poetry, thinks she's better than us all, the little chit."

"Give it back, or I'll tell Mrs Cole," Hermione snapped, stomping her foot angrily. The boys were bullies, and Hermione had had enough bullies in one lifetime to go back in time to get bullied again.

"Why, you little—" The third boy snarled and lurched forward to grab Hermione. His fingers wrapped around her arm and yanked her closer.

Hermione squealed and tried to pull away from him, but he only tightened his fingers enough to bruise her skin. "Let me go! Ow, you're hurting me!"

Tom reacted. He swung his arm back and flung the rock at the boy's face. It hit him in the eye, and blood spurted out of it, flowing in rivulets down his cheek and wetting the collar of his shirt. He screamed in agony and clasped his hand over his eye. "My eyes! I can't see!"

Tom glared at the boys and hissed, "Go."

"I'm going to kill you, you little brat!" The three boys ran at Tom, but he stood his ground, ready to fight back.

Hermione watched in horror as the boys reached Tom, but then, Tom disappeared in the blink of an eye. The boys looked around, bewildered at the sudden vanishing act.

Hermione gasped when Tom reappeared right behind the boy with the bloody face and kicked his bottom as hard as he could. The boy tumbled forward and face-planted in the grass, screaming in pain as he hit the ground hard. The other two boys roared and ran at Tom again, but he vanished without a trace again.

"Where'd he go?" the boys screamed, pivoting on their heels to look for Tom.

Tom suddenly appeared, leaping out of the tree overhead. He landed on the first boy's back and they fell to the ground. Tom promptly got to his feet and kicked the boy's head as hard as he could.

The third boy scrambled to his feet and looked ready to cry. He was trembling from head to toe but trying to look tough, blood still pouring out of his eye. "Stop it!"

Tom didn't. He lunged at the second boy, who tried to scamper backwards, and headbutted him in the stomach, knocking him to the ground. The boy cried, "Oof! You're insane! Damnit, what is wrong with you? Lemme go!"

Tom's eyes flashed golden. Three branches reached out and grabbed the three boys by their ankles before yanking them up into the air.

Shit, he was doing magic. In front of Muggles. To protect me, her mind supplied unhelpfully. Hermione shook her head and tried to think of a way to explain this away, but she didn't need to.

Tom strolled closer to the tree and whispered, "Boo."

They sobbed and cried and pissed themselves, trying to get the tree to let go of their legs. Tom cocked his head and stared at the wailing boys with a terrifying smile on his face. He murmured, "Pain."

The boys' screams turned muffled as thick vines gagged them all. They twisted, turned, flailed their limbs as best as they could, but Tom remained silent.

Hermione's heart was in her throat. Tom was going to kill them; she just knew it. She had to do something.

Swallowing, she crept to Tom's side and touched his hand with the back of her fingers. "Tom, please, let them go."

"They scared you," Tom stated with no expression on his face.

"I-I'm sure they're sorry," she said carefully. "You'll get into trouble if anyone finds you hurting them. They'll…They'll take you away…"

Tom slowly turned his head to look at her. He blinked owlishly before asking, "From you?"

Hermione nodded. It wasn't a lie, was it? They would take him away from her if they realised how dangerous he truly was. So, she said, "They'll take me away from you, think you'll hurt me too like you're hurting them, and we'll never see each other again."

Tom blinked again. He turned to the tree and his eyes flashed again. The three boys dropped to the ground in a heap of trembling limbs, trousers wet with piss, and faces red with the blood rushing straight to their heads. They scrambled to their feet and whimpered before they hurried away, still crying.

"You will stay with me," Tom announced and entwined his fingers with hers. His expression was solemn, but his eyes were dark with emotion.

Hermione's heart beat even harder (was she delighted? Or was she scared?) and she nodded. He probably meant that she wasn't going anywhere without him and vice versa. Tom was succinct in his speech, after all. She murmured, "Okay, but you have to promise me you won't go around hurting people."

"They hurt you."

"People will hurt me, but that doesn't mean you can hurt everyone," Hermione argued.

"They hurt you. I'll hurt them."

Hermione sighed at his simple logic, but her heart soared at the thought of someone (even if it was Tom Riddle) protecting her like this. She'd never had anyone stand up for her this quickly. Harry and Ron had defended her from time to time, but they had also sometimes hurt her themselves. Tom, surprisingly, had never hurt her. It was as if it just wasn't in his blood.

Maybe in the future, he might feel differently about her, but for now, he was her protector.